


Warmth

by androidkisser



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Love, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androidkisser/pseuds/androidkisser
Summary: “I'm not sure what I did today to deserve this, but... thank you,” she whispered. “It means more than you know.”





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Record two fics written in one day, I think... that's good...  
> I'm in love with these two, and I'll say it until the end of time.
> 
> Please leave me feedback on this, I'm really quite happy with this one so I'd like to hope it's good and its not just me being blinded by my adoration ;;  
> Thank you for reading, as always.

Her message didn't _worry_ him, per se, but it did make him frown. They had her working late again, as was usual these days. Work was hard to come by if you were an android, and so she had taken the administration position the military had offered her when the war had ended without a moment's hesitation. This was the third night in a row, and the fifth night this week that they'd requested she stay in 'just a little longer' to tidy up loose ends, and though he stayed quiet about it, he wished she would say no. 'Just a little longer' ended up being hours at a time, and he was frustrated that they seemed to see her as some kind of a tool, rather than an asset to their department.

21O wouldn't be home for another hour or so, he realised, looking up at the clock on the wall, then feeling a little stupid, knowing he could simply have checked the one in his own internals. Living this new life really had humanised him, and it was more than a little irritating at the best of times.

He'd spoil her tonight, he thought. Properly, too – nothing half-assed. Being unable to find a job had made him a little lazy, too, and it pained him to realise it sometimes. Well, there were those movies she had rented a while ago. Finding time to watch those had been a near impossibility this week. They weren't exactly to his taste – he presumed they were more for research than entertainment, but then, to her, research _was_ entertainment. It always had been.

The living room was in no real state for a comfortable night in front of the television, though. The sofa had been repositioned to allow for a makeshift work desk to be erected in front of said television, along with an uncomfortable looking wooden chair. The cushions balanced on top of the seat didn't look as if they'd make sitting any more comfortable for an extended length of time, which is the only length of time that she ever sat down to work for.

His first actions were to fold up the chair, toss the cushions onto the sofa, and push the table far into the back corner of the room. The fire wasn't on, either, and winter had rolled around quickly this year. It felt as if they had just barely gotten their teeth into the summer, before the leaves had abandoned their posts, and the rain had begun to fall with more frequency. Though they didn't feel the cold as much as humans did, the comforting heat was more than appreciated.

He pulled the sofa to a comfortable viewing distance in front of the television, then reached over to the side to start the fire warming. Their living room in general wasn't exactly a modern style, and it certainly didn't fit in with any recent catalogue designs; most of their furniture and accessories were saved from second-hand stores by 21O, or bought from stores that specialised in vintage styles. She was fond of showing him images of older human households, that favoured comfort over aesthetics, though that wasn't to say that she hadn't managed to pull together a common theme in their own apartment.

He took out a couple of fleece blankets from their linen closet, and placed them across the sofa, with the movies she had rented in pride of place on top of them. Looking out of the window, he saw the rain beginning to turn into sleet, and he remembered with a twinge of dismay that she had left the house with neither an umbrella, nor a coat with any real thickness to it.

Thinking about it, there _was_ more he could do.

He set aside a pan of milk – lactose free, of course; it played hell with android systems, and was nigh impossible for them to digest – and cocoa powder. He'd only have to heat it up once she was done with the other treat he had planned.

First though, he had to freshen himself up. It wasn't as if he was disgusting, or that androids were nearly as prone to overheating as humans, but he wanted everything to be just right for her, tonight.

It didn't take a whole lot of time for the water to heat up for a bath, and he was thankful for it – there wasn't much time before she'd be home, and he still had things to take care of. He rushed through his routine, taking the very least amount of time possible to ensure he'd smell nice for her. He emptied the water from the tub right away, washed it out, and then began to fill it slowly again, using the soaps she preferred.

He only just finished setting out towels for her when he heard the key turn in the lock, and he rushed over in his pyjamas to meet her as she came into the hallway, sopping wet.

“Hey, you,” he said, with a meek wave as she shut the door behind her.

She offered a weak smile in return, looking exhausted. As much as it pained her to show it, she was visibly shivering from the cold.

He walked up to her to give her a hug; he was still damp as it was, but he wouldn't have cared even if he was bone dry.

“I see you've been enjoying one of your precious baths again,” she said, as he clung on to her, desperate to share some of his body heat. He was barefoot, and thus much shorter than her – even without her heels, she had a few inches on him, but now, his head barely reached her chest.

“Well, yeah, but... well, I've been a little busy today,” he said with a smile. “I... felt really bad for you today, so I...”

21O peeked around the living room door from the hallway, before taking her shoes off and basking in the warmth of the fire. She caught sight of the movies, the newly rearranged room, and the blankets, and her expression softened in an instant.

“You did... all of this, for me?”

“Of course I did,” he said, mildly indignant. “There's a bath running for you, too, if you want. I thought you'd be cold, so...”

She beckoned to him, reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire so soon. Her toes curled into the carpet, as she sought to draw warmth from every source possible. As he reached her, she drew him into a much tighter hug than the last one they had shared, and she kissed the top of his head.

“I'm not sure what I did today to deserve this, but... thank you,” she whispered. “It means more than you know.”

“I mean, you know I'd do anything for you, I just – I feel like I don't do enough these days, y'know? You do everything around the house, you're the one who works, you're the one who fills it with all this nice stuff, and all I do is nod and smile...”

“You worry far too much,” she said, quietly, the shivering coming to a stop. “I enjoy doing all those things for you. For us.”

“Well, today I'm looking after you, alright? No arguments, got it?”

She chuckled softly, a sound almost as warming as the fire behind her.

“I see,” she replied. “Well then, I suppose I had better go and check on this bath, hadn't I?”

Reluctantly, she relinquished her hold on him, and sauntered off to the bathroom, unfastening buttons as she went.

As the door closed behind her, he made sure to record the sight of her surprised but wonderfully pleased face to his most permanent memory storage. He lay back on the sofa for a moment, savouring the fact that she truly hadn't expected it.

As he heard her stepping out of the bath and the water draining away, he began to reorganise the blankets into a usable state, and set up one of the movies on the screen in front of them; he figured it wouldn't matter which they watched first, since he didn't intend on letting her wander to bed without getting a chance to finally get through them.

He was a little distracted from his task when he saw 21O walking through the room in the corner of his vision to their bedroom, no doubt to finish drying off and change into some comfortable clothes. As of right now, though, she was only wearing a towel, loosely wrapped around her body, along with one around her head.

9S felt his mouth go dry almost instantly. He was glad he was about to make a hot cocoa for the pair of them.

“You look... wow, really, you uh... wow,” he stammered, barely able to form the words. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and they looked so _soft_. So inviting.

“I assume that is a compliment,” she said, smiling softly at him. “The bath was incredible, by the way. Thank you.”

“Y-you're welcome,” he replied shakily, moving to the kitchen to start heating up the milk. _Keep it together,_ he thought to himself. _Not like you haven't seen her before._

She emerged a few minutes later, her hair still a little damp, wearing something he never thought he'd see her in. He almost dropped the spoon he was about to stir the cocoa with.

“It was a gift from 6O,” shrugged 21O. “Does it not suit me?”

“I mean – no, it's adorable it's just... well, it's not your usual...”

“Oh, I am well aware,” she said, tugging at the cloth of the frog-themed onesie she was sporting. “It is rather... cute, though.”

“It is,” he said, laughing a little, before handing her the mug. “Here, for you.”

“You really are being too kind,” she half-mumbled, blushing as she took it from him.

“No such thing,” he replied with a smile, as he moved in unison with her to curl up on the sofa. “I picked the one about the humans living in the Arctic first, it actually looks pretty interesting...”

“Really now, you don't have to feign interest in my –”

“No, I'm serious, I didn't even know humans _could_ live there, let alone that they've been there for ages,” he said, looking her in the eyes. She didn't detect a trace of dishonesty, which excited her. Though they were both insatiable in their thirst for knowledge, their topics of choice rarely overlapped.

“I'll trust you this time,” whispered 21O, taking a sip from her cocoa and wrapping her free arm around his lithe body.

The documentary started off slowly, though it was clearly well researched. As it went on, and as they finished their drinks, they found themselves shifting into increasingly comfortable positions on the sofa, until 9S was positioned between her legs, facing away from her.

Almost involuntarily, one of her hands found its way to his hair, and the other snaked around him, pulling him tightly against her underneath the blankets. He made a contented noise, leaning back against her as her fingertips combed through his hair.

21O found herself losing interest in the documentary, and losing herself in him instead. She leaned in close, and took a deep breath; his hair smelled _delicious_ – although cinnamon wasn't her personal choice, it suited him perfectly. It was such a warm, inviting scent, and soon, she was pressing herself into his hair, as if she were unable to get enough of him.

“Hey, you're missing the best stuff,” 9S pointed out. “That guy almost took a polar bear swipe to the head.”

She couldn't even bring herself to care, as interesting as it sounded. He was beyond intoxicating.

“You're... honestly incredible,” she whispered, before leaning forward to brush her lips against the outer skin of his ear.

“Hey... c'mon, your documentary...” he protested feebly.

“I don't care, right now,” she replied, as she kissed lightly along the synthetic cartilage, that was just as sensitive as – if not more than – the real thing. The hand that wasn't still lost in his hair was working its way up his shirt, unbuttoning it with finesse as it travelled ever upwards. His breathing was quickening.

“Um, I didn't do this to get... anything out of it, you know... I just...”

_“Shh...”_ she whispered into his ear, making him shudder. “You've done such a wonderful job looking after me tonight, so let me look after you now, Nines...”

Oh, he was lost. At that moment, nothing else mattered, except the fact that he was her Nines and she was going to treat _him_. At least he felt like he had earned it.

“S-sure,” he stuttered, as she ran her nails across the perfect skin of his stomach. At the same time, her tongue darted out to caress the inside of his ear, followed shortly by a gentle nibble at his earlobe. Her own breathing was heavy and uneven, and had she a single care in the world, she would have noticed her pulse rate rising dangerously.

That heavy, uneven breath was driving him insane – it was on his neck, it was at his ear, it was in his hair... there wasn't a single place safe from her desire, right now.

Her hand travelled downwards, past the waistband of his pyjama shorts. She was equally pleased and surprised that he was already excited just from the attention she was lavishing upon him.

“You're such a good boy for me,” she teased, licking at the side of his neck, and making him squirm. The very tip of her thumb traced circles around the head of his rapidly swelling member, as it filled out her palm. “You really are.”

He made some kind of a strangled attempt at a 'yes, ma'am', though it didn't quite come out right, which made her laugh softly, almost seductively, right into his ear.

“What was that?” she asked, as she began to stroke up and down his length, knowing full well the effect it would have on him as she renewed her playful nipping and licking at his neck.

“Y-yes ma'am... I'm... I always do my best...”

“That you do,” 21O whispered, “and that is why you're being rewarded...”

Any further attempts at speech were thwarted by her torturous lips and her nefarious tongue, cutting off any train of logical thought he may have had – not to mention the fact that he was already thrusting into her palm desperately.

“At least _try_ to behave yourself,” she said, though truthfully, she didn't mind if he was misbehaving or not. Having him melt in her hands was always a joy, though right now, it was doing a wonderful job of turning her on in equal measures.

“S-sorry,” he managed to squeak, though he was soon silenced by her hand twisting his head firmly but gently to the side, so her lips could meet his. She was grinding against his hipbone – _anything_ to grant her some kind of a reprieve from the heat pooling between her thighs; her kisses became more passionate as a result, her tongue seeking his, eager to take him to new heights of pleasure.

“I'm so lucky to have you, Nines,” she hummed as they parted, her voice exuding pure devotion to the boy in front of her. “I'm so, so lucky...”

This time, he was absolutely unable to deliver any sort of a response, as her fingertips began to tease more fervently at his length, caressing the underside of the head, running their way up and down his shaft – she could feel him twitch at every movement, and she could feel the lubricant beading at the tip.

In one swift move, she freed him from his pyjamas.

“We wouldn't want you to make a mess in those, would we?”

Again, no response, save for the increasingly desperate moans escaping his plush, soft lips. Teasing was no good now; he was much too far gone for that.

“Are you going to finish for me, Nines?”

His breath caught in his throat. She knew exactly what to say to press his buttons, in perfect sequence.

“You've been so good, today... so, so good,” she went on, her lips grazing his cheeks, his jaw, his collarbone, whatever she could reach. “You deserve the world and more...”

All he could do now was whimper, and wait until she drove him over the edge. They both knew that he enjoyed this as much as the end result, though.

“I don't mind if you finish in my hand,” 21O whispered against his skin. It was so much more explicit than anything else that ever left her mouth, and it was turning him to jelly. “In fact, I think I would quite like that...”

Another muffled mewl, as she nuzzled against his face with her own.

“You can finish for me whenever you'd like,” she said, imploring him to go on and do it. “I love you, Nines...”

9S broke, then. He fell back against her, panting heavily, as her hand continued its relentless up and down motions. Her delicate fingers were soon coated in a hot, sticky mess, though her pace never slowed. He was positively writhing beneath her touch, it was far too sensitive, it was –

“See? You're _such_ a good boy, 9S,” she breathed. “You're so good... so, so good...”

She repeated it over and over as he came down from the high, visual feed returning slowly from the pure white that it had been moments ago. When it did, he was treated to the sight of her cleaning her fingers off in the most provocative, enticing way with her tongue. He was unable to speak for a good while, though he managed to form a sentence in the end, somehow.

“That polar bear really was about to take that guy's head clean off,” he said, slowly, still catching his breath.

His stupidity caused her to laugh, forcing her to rub against his hip again, involuntarily. He felt the wetness, and sensing weakness, began to grind against her in return.

“Tonight _was_ supposed to be me looking after you, you know,” he said, a malevolent glint in his eyes. “So...”

“So?” she replied, aching for him. Craving his touch. His scent. His voice. Everything about him. She needed it all.

“So I'm going to take good care of you too, ma'am,” he laughed, the playful pet name only serving to make her press herself against him harder.

“I meant what I said,” she whispered. “All of it. You really do... deserve so much more than what I can give you...”

“Even if that's true, I don't want it,” he replied, turning to face her, “I only want you.”

With that, he began to unzip her onesie – adorable though it was, she was plenty warm now, and it was in the way. He kissed every inch of warm, pink skin he revealed as the zip travelled South, making her practically purr for him. His nose and chin grazed her skin as he continued to press his lips to her body, and he made no attempt to prevent it, as the sensations only served to weaken her resolve. He loved her for being the way she was; no nonsense, a little strict, more than the slightest touch controlling, but he also loved taking her apart, reducing her to nothing more than a delicate girl, desperate for his touch.

When she felt his warm breath on her sex, it took the combined restraint of every fibre of her being to resist the urge to push upwards into his face. She could deny him the satisfaction of that, at least.

Or so she thought. He used the very tip of his tongue to trail a torturous line along her glistening slit, and despite herself, she thrust her hips up to meet it. She could almost see the shit-eating grin on his face, though he didn't stop what he was doing. Quite the opposite, in fact – the more she gave in to him, the more he rewarded her, his hands caressing her stomach and her thighs, his tongue inching its way further inside her, as he hummed his approval.

She was in no state to fight him, nor did she desire it any longer. All that mattered was that they both shared their love for each other.

“Don't stop,” she whimpered. “Please...”

He laughed softly, without removing his tongue, the gentle vibrations of his voice driving her to the brink. One of his hands found its way to the top of her entrance, and his thumb began to circle the little pink bud there. The sounds he drew forth from her at that moment would stay with him until the day the little black box inside of him decided to cease functioning.

She screamed, and she whined, and she moaned for him – she had nothing left to resist him, she was entirely his to do with as he pleased, she belonged to him, she couldn't give _enough_ of herself to him, she...

All of her thoughts faded into one blissful surrender, as his efforts bore fruit. He lapped up every last drop of the salty-sweet liquid that flowed freely over his lips, as if to prove a point to her.

He crawled up her body, pressing his exposed skin against her own naked chest, savouring her warmth, and her frankly unbelievable softness. With what little of her strength remained, she covered them both with the blanket, as they were.

“You're beautiful,” 9S said, taking in every nuance, every subtle detail of her face, flushed crimson, her still racing pulse, her mouth still unable to take in as much oxygen as she needed for her systems to function. “Really, you're perfect...”

21O smiled at him, her breath hot against his face. “I was thinking the same thing.”

 


End file.
